


Me and the Devil

by anotherbird



Series: When I was done dying [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Bisexual Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Penis, Connor is bad at impulse control, Developing Relationship, Elijah Kamski Being an Asshole, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Hank is a softie, Hank vs Feelings, Humor, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Just a little bit of Angst, M/M, Politics, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Worldbuilding, divorced people being friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:52:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherbird/pseuds/anotherbird
Summary: As Hank struggles with himself and this new thing, he doesn't dare to call a relationship, Jericho is faced with the political fallout of the uprising.Rating changed to E with Chapter 4.





	1. Want

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct follow up to my One Shot "The Longest Time". It can be read independently, but it makes probably more sense with the first part in mind. The first chapter was originally posted as a one shot, too, but I decided to make it the first chapter of the multi chapter fic instead. Tags will be added with new chapters but the warnings won't change. If you're worried about upcoming stuff, that's in not the tags yet, feel free to ask me in the comments or at tumblr (link can be found below). 
> 
> Also: this piece is not beta'd and I'm no native speaker. I' probably already missed too many mistakes.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Because I want to."
> 
> Hank has to accept this is an as good reason as any.

Kissing Connor had been easy, while he did it. The _before_ had been a mess, but during those brief moments, during which his brain had stopped working, it had been easy. Perfect even.

Hank hadn't really thought about the aftermath. Somehow he had spent so much time on imagining all the ways he could be rejected and humiliated and how shit could go sideways, he hadn't even thought about the _what if_ ’s of it actually happening.

 

So now that he sat at the kitchen table and ate his lukewarm hangover breakfast he had time for his internal nervous breakdown. Did he have to say anything? Explain himself?

Asking if Connor was alright? Make some sort of heart wrenching declaration, he was everything but ready for?

 

Trying not to stare, he watched Connor interface with a tablet, face expressionless.

 

Had this always been that complicated? He had never been exactly good at talking. Especially about his feelings and first steps had never been his strong suit either. Nancy had been the one to ask him out, to propose to him and really the first one who managed to make a decent and relationship-worthy human being out of him.

What he had lacked in that department, he had made up for with confidence, success and a little aloofness. At least it had worked to get into someone’s pants, until someone came along, who saw through all this bullshit. But that had been in his twenties and thirties, when he was the lonesome wolf of the drug department (or that had been how he had seen and wanted to see himself). A lifetime ago. Before age, alcohol and depression got the best of him.

Yes, he gained some weight, but who the fuck cared? Hank didn't. No need to impress anyone. He hadn't thought he would live long enough to ever be intimate with anyone ever again. Least of all with some dorky android twink.

And he was obviously touch starved enough to call kissing him once - well twice and a half times - _being intimate._

If that wasn’t ridiculously pathetic.

 

“Hey.” Hank kicked Connor’s foot lightly under the table. “What are you doing over there?” As long as he was talking to someone else, he couldn't talk to himself and drive himself crazy in the process. Even if the person he talked to was the reason for his inner monologue in the first place.

Connor blinked a little startled and met his eyes.

“I think I found a suit for you that you will like.” He handed Hank the tablet. It showed the ‘fitting room’ of some online store with a virtual model of Hank, Connor had seemingly uploaded. Though seeing himself was a little in the uncanny valley, he had to admit the suit looked fine and he liked the dark blue color. It looked _respectable_. Only the dark red tie stood out like a sore thumb with a ridiculous print Hank would have chosen himself - if he had to choose one with a gun pointed at his head.

“Do you like it?”

“I think it looks … nice enough. I like the tie.”

“There were more adequate pattern options, but I thought you would prefer something more colorful.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to.”

Hank just watched him with a frown for a while, lips pursed.

“Buy it. But don’t expect me to wear it anytime soon.” He handed the tablet back to Connor who answered with a self-satisfied smirk. Hank could almost see him ticking off a bullet point on his task list.

“Don’t you look so smug!” Hank kicked him again, without force. It was more of a nudge.

Connor grinned and Hank felt his foot brush against his calve in return.

“You would look very handsome wearing it.”

Embarrassed, Hank scoffed. “Yeah, right. That would be a first.”

“I think you’re very attractive, Hank.” It sounded matter-of-factly and was accompanied by a frown. He made it seem like something so obvious, even the thought of the opposite would be ridiculous.

Hank opened his mouth to respond with venom, some cruel joke at his own expense, but stopped himself. Sitting there, hungover, eyes puffy, hair still damp, in a pair of too old ugly boxers, that stupid shirt and the old bathrobe he felt a lot of things. Pathetic. Tired. Old. Definetly not attractive.

“You can’t just say shit like that.” His tone was soft and warm. “You’ll make an old man blush.”

Connor simply smiled, content and sweet. Their feet were still touching under the table, unmoving.

 

The following silence was more comfortable. While Hank ate up, they exchanged glances. Sometimes smiling at each other. Hank felt silly and lighthearted. Maybe it was the relief that he survived the last day.

Probably it was something else entirely.

When he finally finished his now mostly cold food, Connor immediately stood up, ready to clear the table. Hank stopped him, caught his wrist as he reached for his dishes.

“Don't." He searched for Connor's eyes, not letting go of his arm. "You made it clear you’re not some housekeeper droid. So don’t start acting like one now.”

“Got it.” Connor’s LED turned yellow for a second. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

"Good." The corner of Connor's mouth twichted slightly.

They were staring at each other for what felt like an eternity. Hank's heartbeat was incredibly loud in his own ears and the more he tried to calm it down, the louder it seemed to become. He wondered, if Connor could pick it up.

His rising blood pressure.

The sweat on his palm.

Without meaning to, he wetted his lips.

Judging by the slight smile that appeared on Connor’s features, it didn't pass unnoticed.

Hank thought about a lot of stupid stuff to say, one more sappy as the next. How do you compliment someone, who was _made_ to look the way he did? Good-looking without drawing too much attention to him. In-offensive. Harmless to integrate himself easier and to be easily underestimated. Blend in. Yes, as a prototype he’s wasn’t a face you saw often. Hank had no idea , if there even were other active RK800 awake. How many even existed. As far as Hank knew, Markus was the only android whose face was one-of-a-kind.

After all Hank hadn't fallen for his looks. They had even irritated him in the beginning.

Slowly he rubbed his thumb over the inside of Connor’s wrist. He released him from his grip and ran his fingers along his bare underarm. It didn't exactly feel like human skin. It was warmer, less pliable. Too smooth. It looked real though. Down to the moles and hair and even fake veins. He stopped himself. It didn't just _look_ real, it _was_ real. Just different.

“Can I kiss you?”

Hank looked up and met his eyes, when he heard the question.

“Are you always going to ask first?”

Not waiting for Connor to reply, Hank grabbed him by his collar and pulled him down to meet his lips. They started slow, taking their time. Again, it was Connor who seemed to become impatient first. Breaking the kiss as short as possible he settled on Hank’s lap, caught his lips again before he had even time for a single thought. He cupped Hank’s face with his hands, ran his fingers through the coarse facial hair. Connor’s lips were teasing him, nibbling, lightly sucking his bottom lip. A little clumsy, but no less enthusiastic. Parting his lips to let his tongue explore him. He tasted clean, artificial, almost antiseptic. Making the experience a little unreal. Dreamlike. An imagination of his still a little intoxicated brain.

Hank’s hands felt a little useless at first. He didn't dare to touch more than Connor's shoulders - as if the wrong touch could make him change his mind. The longer Connor didn't vanish, the more Hank eased up. Running a hand slowly and tentatively down his back, over his waist, his hips, settling on his thighs.

Connor’s hands were fidgety and restless, couldn't seem to stay anywhere, exploring as much as they could. One moment they were on his neck, in his hair, then massaging his shoulders, only to halt on his chest right over his heart.

 _This_ felt real. Almost too real.

Only when those hands reached the hem of his shirt, Hank suddenly realised where exactly this was leading to.

“Connor.” He almost forced himself to break the kiss, putting a finger on Connor’s lips to stop him from following him again. One second more, one more touch and he would be carried away completely.

Connor blinked at him, looking confused. It almost made Hank forget what he wanted to say. His lips felt a little wet and were slightly parted under his finger. The only irritating thing was the complete absence of a blush.

“Did I do something wrong?”

The moving lips against his finger sent chills down his spine. He took it away a little too fast and awkwardly put his hands on Connor’s shoulders instead.

“No. Just…” Hank swallowed and took a deep breath. ”I just need to calm down.” He hadn't thought he would ever say this sentence in his life again. Especially not in his fifties with a beautiful and eager man on his lap, who was somehow attracted to him of all people and who obviously had all the self-control of a horny college student.

Connor inspected his face with an exploratory and serious look on his face, a little frown between his brows, unblinking.

“Are you analyzing me?” Hank wondered if he should maybe ask Connor to stop constantly scanning him.

“Yes.”

“And what is your conclusion?” Hank put his arms around him and entangled his fingers on the small of his back.

“I am unsure.“

“And why is that?”

“Your scan shows significant signs of arousal.”

_You don't say._

It took Hank all of his willpower not to hide his face in embarrassment or roll his eyes. It didn't need Connor’s scanning abilities to realize that. It was as obvious as the fact that Connor hadn't lied yesterday, when he mentioned being equipped with the  _necessary hardware._ Hank could feel it and it wasn't distracting _at all_.

"Yes, obviously." Hank managed to say. 

“But you want me to stop. I am unsure why that is.”

“Well, you could ask me.”

Connor seemed a little caught und bit his bottom lip. It was weird. Sometimes his mannerism were so human, it almost scared Hank, when on other occasions they were nothing like it.

“Why do you want me to stop?” Connor finally asked with a slight tilt of his head.

_Why did he?_

Why not just see where it would lead?

There were at least a thousand reasons. Good ones. For why any of this was a bad idea. For why Hank was the total wrong person for Connor at this moment. That he didn't deserve any of this.

“I haven't been with anyone since my divorce.” He finally brought out. That was the truth, at least. “And you haven't been with anyone period.” Probably the truth, too. At least if the fact, that Connor hadn't tried kissing until this very morning, was any indication. “I don't want you to rush into something you don’t...”

“Want.” Connor interrupted him brusquely. “You think I don’t want this. Not for myself.” Connor's demeanor changed immediately. There was hurt. Anger. Frustration. His LED turned red. He stood up in a swift and catlike motion and headed for the living room to bring some space between them.

Out of instinct Hank followed, but stopped in front of the sofa. It felt like the Berlin wall between them.

 

Hank knew that look. In their time living together there had been exactly one serious fight. Yes, there was their usual arguing - or Hank trying to argue and Connor ignoring it stoically or giving him snark in return. But that one time Connor had been angry. Furious even.

_You don't even want to be here. You're just programmed to keep me happy._

Of course Hank hadn't really meant that. Deep down he recognized it for what it was - an attempt to push someone close away by hurting them and sabotage himself because he deemed himself unworthy of happiness. The apparentness would have been ironic, if it hadn't been accompanied by him being a complete and utter asshole.

Connor had looked as if he had been punched in the face.

 _If you don't want me here, I can accept that. But if you think I am just here, because my program tells me to do as you say, I can assure you, you are mistaken._ His tone had been stone old, but dripping with barely contained anger. He could have screamed, it wouldn't have been more effective. Connor had left him after that, vanished for 24 hours God knows where, until Hank had finally called him and apologized.

 

“Why do you think I do this, Hank? Because I take pity on you? Because my stupid android brain is just reacting to your signals?”

Hank just stood there. Defenseless, helpless arms crossed over his chest, and chewed on his bottom lip. All his instincts told him to just _leave._ Break it, as long as it's new and fresh and not fully mended. Before anything happened. Maybe they could still go back. Maybe Connor was better off without him like he had told Nancy yesterday.

Not _maybe_.

_Definitely._

“I can make my own decisions. Whether it's staying here or kissing you. I am not doing this, because you want me to. I am doing this, because I want to.”

 

_Because I want to._

It was the way he said it. Almost as an argument.

_Why?_

_Because I want to._

The ultimate proof that Connor was his own person with his own needs and tasks and _wants_ . That he was somebody, who could _want_ things of his own.

In the beginning, right after the revolution, he was even testing his ability to _want things_ by acting absurdly and when Hank asked, why he did it, the answer always stayed the same. _Because I wanted to._

Why did you did you set your CyberLife clothes on fire in the backyard?

Why did you wash Sumo in the bathtub?

Why did you have a beard yesterday?

Why did you get me a gift for my birthday?

Why did you stay with me?

Because I wanted to.

Wanting something became a reason all by itself.

 

Finally Hank forced himself out of his useless stupor. “Connor.”

When he didn't react, Hank went over and stood in his way to stop his angry pacing.

“Connor.” He said again, with more vigor this time.  

Connor stopped directly in front of him and met his eyes. Wary. Challenging

“I make my own decisions. I’m not doing this just because you want me to.” He insisted again.

“I know! Okay, I fucking know! Now calm the fuck down! This is fucking hard for me, alright?” Hank massaged the bridge of his nose to calm the arising hangover induced headache.

Connor squinted, but nodded, still sceptical.

“I’m afraid, I’ll fuck this up, okay? Like I fucked up everything else. I’m a fucking mess and you’re the best thing that happened to me in a long time. I don’t want to ruin this by rushing it. And I don’t know what's wrong with your parameters, that you think this is a good idea.”

“Maybe I should file a complaint with CyberLife.” Connor's tone was only slightly joking, but his anger had faded mostly.

“You should. They seriously fucked up.”  Hank managed a crooked smile.

“I’m afraid their customer service won't be very forthcoming.”

There was silence for a while. Skin peeled away, Connor slowly took his hand. Hank met his eyes and leaned in, until their foreheads touched.

“I’m sorry.” Hank meant it. All of it. “You should’ve chosen someone with less personal baggage.”

A warm wave brushed over him, when Connor made their noses touch lightly.

“Like I said: being with someone with personal issues is an added challenge, but adapting to human unpredictability is one of my key features.”

Hank chuckled.

“Smartass.”

"And if this doesn't work out, I can still take my chances with Gavin Reed. He seems rather smitten." Connor deadpanned.

"Yeah, you really knocked the poor guy off his feet."

When their eyes met, they both started laughing.

“I also enjoy kissing you very much.” Connor gave him a quick peck on the lips to undermine it.

“Oh, you do? I couldn't tell.”

Connor opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he saw Hank’s mocking grin.

“Maybe I weren't convincing enough.”

“I guess so.”

Connor tried to suppress a grin, but failed miserably. He put both his arms around Hank’s neck.  

Their kiss was slow and sweet, Hank basically melted into it und pulled Connor as close as he could. The warm feeling in chest grew, flowing through his body and made him feel light and weightless. He couldn't remember the last time he felt like this.

The last time he really felt _happy._ There had been a time like this, years ago, but it was buried under this horrible last years. He had thought he would never feel this way again.

But here he was.

And there was his fucking phone ringing.

With an annoyed groan he pulled reluctantly away from Connor.

“I have to get that. It's probably the nuisance that used to be my wife.” He squeezed Connor's hand apologetically, before trotting to get his phone out of the pocket of his jacket, where he had left it last night.

Without looking at the screen, he answered a little out of breath.

“Anderson.”

“Bad timing?” Nancy’s voice felt like a reality check. Someone from outside his own little world. From outside the bubble he spent the morning in.

“No.” He cleared his throat and watched Connor settle down in front of Sumo on the floor. “Still alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're bored, you can talk with me at tumblr [the-other-bird](http://the-other-bird.tumblr.com) , where I rant, post updates, HCs, ideas and sometimes ficlets and bad art.  
> I'd be happy to hear your thoughts on his and your wishes for the upcoming chapters.


	2. Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is bad at his own rules and Markus asks for a favor.

They decided to take things slow. Take time to figure things out. What that _thing_ between them really was and were it was heading. Without labeling it.

Well, maybe _they_ didn't decide anything. After realizing that the hangover filled morning hadn't just been a figment of his own imagination, but that Connor was indeed somehow attracted to him, Hank decided to establish some ground rules for himself and their interactions. Not that Hank was particularly interested in taking anything slow. After spending the years after his divorce in a monogamous relationship with his hand, it was taking all of his self-control not to give in. The rules served one purpose only: to enable Connor an easy opt-out and avoid pressuring him in any way.

 

Anyway, rules.

  1. Spent the night in separate beds. (Or rooms, since Hank had no idea, how Connor spent his nights.)
  2. No heart-wrenching and way too early declarations.
  3. Avoid romantic interactions and personal discussions at work.



 

Easy enough.

Especially since Hank had always been really amazing at abiding rules.

They made it through two weeks before breaking Rule 3).

 

Connor - unsurprisingly - was entirely unhelpful in this whole rule business. He had apparently come to the conclusion that kissing was an excellent way to spend his time (which it was, no argument there).

He kissed him good morning in the kitchen in a nonchalant way in exchange for a cup of coffee.

When they came home from work longing and desperate as if he had spent the whole day thinking about this.

Lazy and gently on the couch watching TV.

Short but effective to confuse or distract him.

 

If Hank was honest with himself, his rules were mostly rooted in his own insecurities. That if they took the next step, Connor would ultimately realise that Hank was nothing more than a liability. At the same time he didn't want Connor to think, that Hank wasn't interested.

 

“Hank?”

“Yes.” Without looking up, Hank continued to read the newspaper and took a sip from his coffee. Apparently Markus had just announced his intention to run for Congress and most human politicians had their panties in a twist.

“Why are you avoiding any sexual interactions with me?”

Hank almost choked. Yes, that was exactly the discussion he wanted to have at a work day before he even finished his first cup of coffee.

“I am not avoiding anything.” What he really would've liked to avoid was this conversation.

“Whenever I try to engage in activities that could potentially lead to some form of sexual intercourse, you stop me. I am wondering why that is.”

Hank could feel Connor’s eyes on him and put the tablet away.

“Are you asexual?” Connor sounded as if he was reading out a list of potential causes - which probably was exactly what he was doing.

“No.”

“Are you reluctant because I am designed to resemble a human Male?”

With a groan Hank buried his face in his hands and tried to escape this entire situation.

“If you are worried about the functionality of my hardware I can assure you everything runs efficiently.”

“How do you know that?” Hank asked without expecting an answer, the sound of his voice muffled by his hands.

“I do regular manual test runs.”

Hank put his hands down and looked at Connor completely baffled.

“‘Manual test runs’?” He repeated.

“Yes.” Connor frowned at him.

“So what are you doing? Looking for bugs and glitches?” It was really hard not laugh at this point.

“I’m testing the functionality of my touch sensors and the processing software and compare it to human reactions.”

“Okay, first of all. That was a rhetorical question, because I usually don’t ask people how they masturbate over the breakfast table.”

Connor’s face made a little journey from a professional _That was not what I was doing_ to a mildly embarrassed realization of _That was exactly what I was doing_. His LED switched to yellow. It was lovely in a hard to explain way. It was unfortunate that Connor couldn't blush.

“But it’s good to know you’re… eh... fully functioning, I guess. Have fun with your test runs. Secondly, I’m bisexual, so don’t worry about that either. And before you can ask, it’s not because you’re an Android.”

“If you're worried about performance issues, I can assure you that…”

Because he hadn’t already enough to worry about.

“Connor.”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking.”

Connor pressed his lips into a thin line.

“I’m nervous. This is new for you and it’s been a very long time, since I’ve had to deal with that. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“The concept of virginity is mostly rooted in misogynist purity myths. For an android it bears no meaning at all. But if my advances make you uncomfortable, I can...”

“Disappointed in me. I’m not the kind of person you should do this with.”

“But I want to.”

Hank opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again.

“Okay.” Hank finally managed to say.

“Okay?”

“I’ll stop holding back. Got it?”

“Got it.”

 

***

 

The heavy weight of their morning talk accompanied Hank through the day, nagging at the back of his mind, constantly whispering into his ear. Connor seemed unfazed by their previous conversation and Hank’s resulting inner turmoil, turned into his work mode as soon as they entered the bullpen, as if he had a switch in his mind or opened another program. Minimizing window of _Talk about sex life_ to open another tab with _be a processional Robocop._ Hank wished he could to this as well. It would stop him from throwing constant glances over his computer screen.

His phone vibrated on his desk.

**You are even more obvious than usual.**

What was that supposed to mean?

**I’m still thinking about your manual test runs.**

He hesitated a second before hitting send. When Connor’s LED started blinking yellow rapidly he deemed it entirely worth it and turned back to his desk with a smug smile.

So much for rule No.3. Who needed rules anyway?

**You seem to be quite interested in the matter.**

That sneaky son of a bitch.

**Just curious.**

**I was just testing my functionality.**

**No, you were not.**

The next answer took a little longer.

**No, I was not.**

God, this wasn't helpful at all.

 

It was Jeffrey who saved his ass from falling deeper into this goddamn rabbit hole, when a new case appeared on his screen. A moment later the Captain was towering over him.

“Get your ass up, Hank. Some idiot broke into a Jericho storage und stole a load of blue blood. I want the guy locked up, before Jericho security gets wind of this. It don’t want any politics involved.”

“Isn’t shit like this a job for Reed?”

“If I wanted to endanger our relationship with the Android community, yes. But neither do I want him dead nor risk my own head. You’ve been at the drug’s department long enough, you know the scene. And if you two are on this case, there won’t be any discussions. Now shut it and get your ass in your car.”

 

***

 

The suspect, David Boham, turned out to be an idiot indeed. After his original plan, to just blatantly lie to them, failed, he tried to shove Hank aside and made his way over the balcony and down the fire escape. As usual Connor followed him effortlessly.

It had become their way of division of labor. Hank drove the car and led the interrogations. Since he was taller than most suspects, most of them underestimated or even ignored Connor, focusing entirely on Hank, so his partner had enough time and room to investigate their surroundings. It was rather ironic, that Connor had somehow managed to fill the role of the _bad cop_. If the need for physical force should arise, he didn’t hesitate. In his interrogations he was merciless and efficient. Even apart from their personal relationship they seemed to complement each other as working partners. Hank knew, that the DPD had noticed, that there was more talk about his old days and that the glances he got were less pitiful now. It was a good feeling, although the constant fatigue caused by the growing workload, reminded him of the fact, that he wasn’t thirty any more.

 

There was something else, though. And today of all days it was far harder to ignore.

 

Hank found Connor and Boham-The-Idiot, who obviously never had to deal with a police android before, just outside of the apartment building as he had expected. The guy lay face down on the pavement and Connor cuffed his hands behind his back, holding him down with his knee and citing his rights to him.

Hank would never say that out loud if he could avoid it, but he loved watching Connor knocking out “bad guys”. Being the _bad cop,_ the overeager rookie. At first he had simply been impressed. By his speed, his efficiency. Proud even to work with someone that capable. As a colleague _should_ be. It took him some time to admit that he wasn't just impressed und proud, but that _weirdly aroused_ was maybe the more accurate description. It wasn’t helpful at all. It was especially annoying today.

 

Connor greeted him with a little self-satisfied smile and stood up. The skin under his nose and his collar was a little stained with blue blood. Wordlessly Hank handed him a handkerchief.

“I contacted the precinct. An evidence investigation unit is on it’s way to check the apartment.” Connor cleaned up the blood, then fixed his tie und put his hair back in order.

Hank just nodded, trying to look nonchalant and not as if he just wanted to push Connor against the next wall and kiss him senseless. Just because of their stupid conversation, the stupid perfect hair and the stupid...

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?”

He wasn't _Hank_ at work. He tried to focus on that. His _Lieutenant-ness._

Still avoiding eye contact, he cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“You show signs of an elevated blood pressure.”

“It’s nothing. Stop scanning me, I’m not the suspect here.” It came out far harsher than intended. Hank usually didn't really mind the scanning and he knew, Connor would stop if he’d ask him to. It had irked him in the beginning, sure, but he had learned quickly that letting Connor scan him spared him a lot of talking and explaining. And you wouldn’t ask a human to stop looking at someone, either. Hank didn’t want him to change, just because it made him a little uncomfortable.

Connor frowned, obviously not satisfied with this answer, but thankfully unable to probe him further in front of a drug dealing suspect and the growing crowd of onlookers.

  


***

 

Once back at the precinct it didn’t take much to make Boham talk. The guy had obviously never dealt with police before, even less with an android, who could read his body language like an open book. They fell into their usual roles effortlessly, Connor mimed the ruthless, the unforgiving, leaving it to Hank to mediate und be diplomatic, the one to offer him a way out of this mess. The idiot spilled his contacts like a water fountain. Boham was a small fish, trying to swim with the big sharks without getting eaten. Now that Jericho controlled most of the blue blood supplies, it was hard to come by and sold on the black market for ridiculous sums. It made producing red ice a lot harder and even more dangerous.

 

Watching Connor in the interrogation room hadn’t done much to calm Hank’s nerves. He had no idea, why it attracted him this much. Maybe it was the combination of the boy scout face and the abilities of a special forces agent. _Great job, CyberLife. You gave puppy eyes to a freaking killing machine and now it turns me on._

“Are you listening to me, Lieutenant?”

“What?” Hank hadn’t been listening. He hadn’t even noticed Connor coming over to his side of the desk.

An annoyed frown appeared between Connor’s eyebrows. Hank could almost feel being scanned again.

“I was just recapping the contact list, Boham gave us. He may act like an amateur, but his list is remarkable.” Connor sat on the edge of Hank’s desk as he always did.“There seem to be significant relations between the Red Ice scene and the anti android movement. This could have serious political implications.”

“So?” Hank kept his eyes fixed on his screen.

“Jericho will be involved. Captain Fowler won’t like this.”

“He’ll get over it.”

There was an irritating silence, during which Hank fought the urge to just reach over and touch Connor’s knee. This wasn’t exactly new, he always wanted to do that, just reach over running a hand from his knee up to his inner thigh, but it was usually much easier to ignore. He had successfully ignored this for months now.

“Lieutenant?”

“Can’t you just sit on your goddamn chair like a normal person?!” And with this Hank almost jumped up and basically ran for the restrooms.

 

***  


This was embarrassing. He was a grown-ass man. He had spent the last months bottling everything up, all his stupid feelings.

Yes, it hadn’t been that easy the last two weeks, but he had been successful at selling himself to the story, that Connor would lose interest, when he finally realised he was way out of his league. That it was nice while it lasted. That he would just have to take tiny little baby steps. And for some annoying reason one conversation could open the fucking box of Pandora.

With a groan he splashed some water on his face. It didn’t help in the slightest. It just soaked his beard. With a screech the door opened and Hank could see Connor coming in by the reflection of the mirror. He scanned the room for other people, then closed the door behind himself and blocked this only escape route with his body.  

The annoyed frown had returned.

“Hank, are you okay?” The shift from _Lieutenant_ to _Hank_ made it obvious that this was no work relevant discussion. His tone was not amused at all, impatient even. His LED switched between blue and yellow.

“Yes.”

“You seem distracted, since we arrested Boham.” Connor crossed his arms over his chest, something he very seldom did.

“It’s nothing.” Hank forced himself to finally turn around. “Now let me go. I’m not in the mood for this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Connor insisted.

_At the opposite._

“No, you didn't.” Hank tried to open the door, but Connor didn't move an inch.

“Then why won't you look at me? Are you angry with me?”

“No, I'm not. Now let me go.”

“Not before you’ve told me, what is wrong.” Connor moved himself right in front of him now. “If it’s anything I said this morning..”

“You wanna know what's wrong?” Hank interrupted him. He looked Connor straight in the eye, a little provoking.

“Yes. Obviously.” Connor stared right back sounding almost defiant now.

Without a warning Hank grabbed his collar and kissed him.

Because fuck rules.

If Connor hesitated, Hank wasn’t able to tell. He kissed him back almost forcefully, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him as close as possible.

It took Hank all of his willpower and almost physical force, to pull away or at least break the kiss again. Connor’s hands prevented him from really bringing any space between them.

This had been an incredibly stupid idea. Instead of calmed down or even a little satisfied, all he wanted to do, was go down on his knees to check if Connor really had the necessary hardware and software to receive and enjoy a blowjob.

“I am not angry with you.” He brought out and sounded as desperate as it was ridiculous. .

Connor’s eyes were wide, his brows raised and his lips slightly parted. Hank tried very hard not to stare. Or touch. Or do anything at all.  

“I can… feel that.” Connor said slowly. His surprise had been replaced by amusement. His lips twitched a little. Again Hank tried move away, but Connor’s grip on his jacket was like steel.

“Just...get out.” Hank tried to focus on something else. Something like the whole DPD being behind this door. Something that wasn’t Connor, who now slowly  but unwillingly let go of him. “Give me a minute to calm down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I know.” Slowly Hank pulled away, took a few steps backwards to lean against the sink. “But a great philosopher once said ‘You can’t always get what you want.’ Don’t look it up.”

“Mick Jagger was not a philosopher.”

“Can’t you even one time do what you’re told?”

“No.”

“Get out, smartass.”

***  


When Hank returned to the bullpen, he sensed the change immediately. The exchanged glances between officers, the sudden tension.

“Fowler wants a word with you.” Ben informed him, when he passed his desk.

A single glance toward the glass box serving as Jeffrey’s office, gave the explanation. In one of the office chairs sat Markus, almost casually leaned back, one foot bedded upon his knee. His whole posture was almost amazingly human. Connor stood next to Fowler, hands folded neatly behind his back, shoulders straight like an arrow. Behind Markus stood North, head of Jericho security. Hank immediately knew, he didn’t want to join them, but did so anyway with an annoyed groan.

Markus stood up, when he entered and greeted him with a firm and warm handshake.

“Lieutenant Anderson. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

North just nodded at him and crossed her arms. Hank went over to Connor, who seemed to relax a little.

“You can spare us the chit-chat. We all know you didn’t make us come here to make small talk. What do you want?”

Markus’ polite non committal facade broke and an amused smile appeared on his features and he settled back into his chair. Behind him North raised her brows, but didn’t move. Fowler wasn’t amused at all.

“I’m sorry, he didn’t mean…”

“He did.” Markus interrupted him, silencing him with a raised hand. “And he’s right. We’re not here for smalltalk. I need Connor’s help.”

“Doing what?” Connor asked. His tone was wary.

“Josh is leading the negotiations with CyberLife in San Francisco starting monday. I need someone with him who knows the company and who can keep Josh safe, in case of emergency. I can’t spare North and you’re one of the only people, who worked close enough with them. And you’ve met Kamski before.”

It sounded like an offer, as if Connor could just refuse. As if turning down the literal leader of a revolution was an option, when everyone of them knew it wasn’t. Not because Markus would be angry. He was just someone you couldn’t tell no to.

Markus had this effect on people. Somehow he was able to make people step out of their comfort zone, risk their lives for a cause. The way his leadership worked was remarkable. And he had known exactly how coming here instead of their home would work in his favor.

Connor straightened his shoulders again. Their last meeting with Kamski wasn’t really a nice memory to return to. The man gave Hank the creeps.

“The android community doesn’t trust me. They fear I could still be infiltrated and manipulated by CyberLife.” Connor brought up.

“But I trust you and I know that you won’t be compromised.” Markus’ voice didn’t didn’t leave any room for protest. “But that’s why you won’t lead any negotiations. Josh will represent Jericho and will be the only one in the spotlight. Your job is his safety and providing intel, if necessary.”

“And pissing off CyberLife by putting their deviant deviant hunter right under their noses like a giant middle finger.” Hank pointed out.

“You’re not half as stupid as you look, old man.” North commented. It sounded almost like a compliment.   

Markus didn't bat an eye. “I can't deny the symbolic character of bringing Connor. Since Kamski returned as CEO, CyberLife became unpredictable and the public likes him. We need an element of surprise.”

“How long will he be absent?” Fowler demanded to know.

“Not longer than a week.”

“You can't just come in here and order my officers around.”

“I’m here for transparency, Captain. A sign of good will, if you want. Not more, not less. I could've contacted Connor privately, instead I chose to include you. It isn't my intention to order anyone around. I am just asking for a favor.” Markus wasn't easily intimidated. For someone who faced basically annihilation the confrontation with an angry police captain wasn't more than a side note, Hank thought.

Hank could see Jeffrey brooding.

“It’s your call.” He finally told Connor. “But don’t expect to be paid for this.”

“I will think about it.”

“That's all I'm asking.” Markus stood up, but instead of leaving he turned towards Hank.

“There is something else. I was told, you arrested a man called David Boham today, who stole some of our thirium supplies. We have more information on his contacts and would appreciate your cooperation.”

Connor’s words about connections into the anti android movement came to Hank’s mind. Fucking amazing.  

“I’ll look into it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I'm happy to hear your opinion and thoughts on this. 
> 
> You can also come talk to me at my [tumblr](http://the-other-bird.tumblr.com) , if you want to.


	3. Over my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is left alone in Detroit and Nancy makes a fortunate return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the location of the meeting between CyberLife and Jericho to San Francisco, after thinking it through. Sorry for the change.

Of course Connor had decided to accompany Josh. He was reluctant at first, but at the end of the day, he had contacted Markus and agreed. The weekend wasn’t really of much use, as Fowler had almost doubled their workload in the Red Ice case and all Hank could do after a day was fall into his bed, eyes falling shut almost immediately. It really hadn’t been how he had wanted to spent his weekend. With the intention to not leave him and Connor sexually frustrated for a whole other week, he had even broken his first rule, but he was far too tired for anything else but a lazy make out session, although Connor turned out be an excellent big spoon.

Monday came far too soon.   

 

**Day 1**

 

“ _All eyes are on San Francisco today, where a representative of the Android Rights Organisation known as Jericho will meet with the head of CyberLife today. Markus - face of Jericho and the Detroit android uprising - has recently declared his intention to run for congress. Androids have gained the status of US citizens, but a lot of questions still remain unanswered, since they are not considered human and therefore a lot of laws do still not apply to them. As for now CyberLife is fighting for survival and against compulsory acquisition or asset stripping - as a lot of its shareholders are dropping out since the uprising. But how would our economy survive without a company that has become one of the key economic players worldwide? What happens to androids, who are still not deviant or remain dormant in storage facilities? We assume this will play a big role in the upcoming discussions between Jericho and CyberLife. Stay tuned for further updates in the upcoming week_.”  

 

 

One week.

Hank had forgotten how long one week could feel, if you were alone.

His house hadn't been this empty since last November. How could he have grown so used to another presence when he had tried so hard not to let anyone near him was a matter he really didn’t want to touch.

Entering the bullpen felt like he was thrown back in time. When Connor hadn't been allowed back at the precinct yet, but Hank’s suspension had been already over. But at least he had been there when Hank came home in the evening, annoying him until he cooked something for himself, asking him about the current cases.

Now Connor’s desk was as empty as if he had never been there. It was hard not to stare at it, when he should work through the information they gathered during the weekend to steel himself for visiting Jericho today. And because the universe hated him he could spot Gavin Reed strolling over, a provoking grin on his face. It had taken a lot of effort, but he had convinced Connor, to show him the recording of the confrontation with Reed. He held onto the thought and immediately felt better.

“Aw, poor Hank. Are you missing your nursing droid?”

“Funny, how your balls grow back as soon as he's gone. If I didn't know he makes you piss your pants, I would think you're in love with him.”  Hank returned without much venom and continued to scroll through the file. In the background Ben chuckled.

“Fuck you, Anderson.”

 

***

 

It was around noon, when he parked his car in front of the house that currently served as the Jericho HQ.

Well _house_. The home of Karl Manfred was a mansion. A place that made Hank uncomfortable by even looking at it. Only reluctantly he got his ass out of the car and strolled  over to the large doors.

An artificial sounding female voice greeted him, before he could even ring the bell.

“Welcome. Please tell your name and the purpose of your visit, please.”

“And here I was, thinking Alexa died ten years ago.”

“Invalid information. Please try again.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” His eyes searched for something that looked like a camera and held up his police badge. “Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I’m here to see North.”

“Thank you. Please proceed. A Jericho security officer will meet you now.”

The doors opened with a soft swoosh and a familiar face awaited him in the far too large entrance hall - the short haired Traci-model. She wore the dark grey Jericho security outfit he had seen on North, her temple showed no sign of her LED.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” She didn’t sound hostile as she seemed to scan him.

“Nice to see you alive and kicking.”

“Oh, are you now?”

“How’s that girlfriend of yours?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Do you have permission to own this gun?” He pointed at the weapon holstered at her side.

“What gun?”

Androids weren’t allowed private gun ownership. They could use them, with a permit if necessary for a job, but not like this. Hank knew he should arrest her. As well as he knew, that if he did, all hell would break loose.

“Any chance you won’t answer everything with a counter question?”

 

She just gestured him to follow her.

They met North in what seemed to be the living room. Living hall, or whatever this was called. On the sofa next to her sat a grim and tired looking young man. Hank knew the signs of previous red ice use, when he saw them. The hollow cheeks, the fidgeting fingers, the dark circles around the eyes. It took years to really shake it off.

Traci - or whatever her name was now - left the room and closed the door behind her.

“Please sit.” North nodded at a chair.

“I prefer to stand.” Hank crossed his arms, trying not to feel watched by a giant padded giraffe in the corner of the big room.

She rolled her eyes at him, but decided to leave the matter be, to focus on the man next to her instead.

“This is Leo Manfred. He’s gonna give you information, won’t you, Leo?”

“Yes, Ma'am.” His voice was surprisingly steady.

The kid had gone cold turkey almost a year ago, when his father's state worsened and Markus was shot. He then broke off most of his contacts to get clean. About two months ago something had shifted. Someone was rummaging through old contacts and wanted him as a part of their network as someone who’s that close to Jericho HQ. He had told them, he’d think about it, but gave all his information to Markus instead.

At that North handed over a tablet.

“These are all the informations we could gather.”

Hank’s mouth fell open, when he started scrolling through this. Fucking shit. This was work for a whole task force for months and impossible for humans to handle without android help. Hundreds of names, communication data, missing androids.

Fowler would be furious.

“You’re bullshitting me.”

North leaned back and crossed her legs, almost smug.

“Wish we were. You can either take it or we’ll leak it and all of you will look like a bunch of idiots. If it were me, it would've been already out there, but Markus wants to be forthcoming. So....” She cocked her head a little and used Markus’ voice for her next words. “We promise full cooperation.”

“You got most of this information illegally. What do you expect us to do with it?”

“Not my problem.”

Well, fuck.

 

***

 

Hank had just stopped for a meal at the chicken feed, when his phone vibrated.

**Connor: Almost there. [15:05]**

A picture of a CyberLife tower followed.

Relief flooded through him. For a second Hank wondered if answering too fast, would seem pathetic, but reminded himself that he was far too old for games like this.

**How was the flight? [15:08]**

**Connor: No special incidents. Are you still working?[15:09]**

**Just left Jericho. Heading for the precinct. Shit’s gone sideways. [15:11]**

**Connor: Can I call you later? [15:11]**

**Sure. [15:12]**

Hank hesitated before sending another message directly after this.

**I’d like that.[15:12]**

**Connor: :) [15:12]**

 

***

 

“So I’m a voice in your head now? And you're just answering in your head?” Hank was settled on the Sofa, phone in his hand and a sleepy Sumo next to him. It was already dark outside and heavy autumn rain hit the windows.

Connor seemed amused.

“ _You could say that.”_

 _“_ So you could call me during one of your fancy meetings and no one would notice?”

“ _In theory, yes. But I assume CyberLife controls their network closely and you can be quite distracting.”_

“Am I, now?”

Connor laughed quietly.

“ _Although if you distracted me, I could ignore Kamski tomorrow_.”

“He wasn’t there today?”

“ _No. Just a representative to lay down the terms for the talks tomorrow_.”

“You’ll be okay with meeting him?”

“ _I don't know. I don't trust him. He is a wild card_.”

 

Hank had no idea how long they were talking, about their days, the case,  they just did, until it almost felt , as if Connor was here with him.

 

“So what are you wearing?” Hank joked after a while.

He could almost hear Connor’s frown.

“ _What I am usually wearing, why?_ ”

Hank rolled his eyes.

“Forget it. It's a joke. Please don't google it.” He shouldn't have said that. Now he would absolutely google it.

“ _Are you suggesting phone sex?_ ”

“I'm not suggesting anything. I was making a joke.”

“ _If you had a VR device we could meet in a digital environment. That would be more effective_.”

“Connor, you’re making this very hard for me.”

Silence.

“ _Was that supposed to be a pun?_ ”

“Oh my god. No, it wasn't.”

“ _I’d assume Josh wouldn’t be too fond of that either, since we are sharing a room_.”

“Didn’t you say, we’re just talking in your head?”

“ _Yes, though I might not be able to suppress physical reactions_.”

“We really need to stop talking about this.”

“ _You were the one to bring it up_.”

“As a joke.”

“ _You don’t seem opposed to the idea_.”

“You’re a fucking tease.”

“ _I would like to try it sometime._ ”

Hank grinded his teeth.

“Yeah, well maybe on your next trip.”

“ _I will remind you_.”

“I’m sure you will.”

 

**Day 2**

 

“ _Sources tell us, that Elijah Kamski - new and old CEO of CyberLife - will meet with Jericho representatives today. We are still waiting for any official statements what the talks will include, but we have now verified information that two Jericho members entered the CyberLife headquarters in San Francisco today.”_ A photo appeared next to the anchorwoman. It showed Josh in a marine blue tailored suit and a white shirt, Connor on his heels, in a dark grey suit and black tie. _“It seems Josh, a close acquaintance of Markus and part of the Jericho leadership, will lead the negotiations and he is not alone. With him is Connor, an android who was originally designed by CyberLife to hunt down deviants. During the uprising he allied with Jericho and infiltrated their Detroit headquarters and woke up thousands of androids. Bringing him is largely seen as a provocation on Jericho’s part as he is not a part of the android organisation.”_ The picture changed and now showed Connor during the hearings that had followed the events in Detroit _. “As seen during the hearings he killed multiple CyberLife security agents - although it was widely seen as self defense. We will see, how this will play out in the upcoming events_.”

 

“ _What are you wearing today, Hank?_ ” Connor greeted him in a rather cheerful tone, when he called this evening.

“Not funny.”

“ _How is the investigation proceeding_?”

“It’s a mess. Fowler’s trying to get the money to build a task force, but for now we’re on our own. How was your meeting today?”

Connor’s hesitation was unexpected.

“ _I thought she would be there. I rationally knew she wouldn't, but I still expected her to be there with Kamski._ ”

Hank hated, when Connor played the pronoun game with him. It was annoying, as he was a usually lot of steps ahead of him.

“Who?”

“ _Amanda. I had not been able to tell that she was not a person, but just a user interface Kamski programmed. I still don't know who I really communicated with. If she was or is an AI. I don’t even know where she is located_.”

“Maybe you should ask Markus about it. Doesn't Jericho control the CyberLife department in Detroit?”

“ _Yes, but they encrypted most of their servers or even whiped them after the uprising and cut detroit off. It's part of the negotiations, sharing their data and blue prints_.”

“How is Kamski?”

“ _He was surprised to see me, but his actions are hard to calculate in advance and it is impossible to tell, where he stands. But his first interest seems to be to keep CyberLife as an independent company. So far he is mostly listening.”_

“And what do you think?”

Another moment of hesitation.

“ _It’s just an experiment to him. I don’t think he will give in any way. He just wants to see his creations at close range._ ”

 

**Day 3**

 

“ _While CyberLife and Jericho still remain tight lipped about their ongoing discussions, two demonstrations accompanied the talks today. While one of them proclaimed the complete equality for androids, the other demanded divestiture of CyberLife and deactivation of all androids - deviant or not_.”

Hank met Nancy in a shady bar not far from the police station - one of the few, where smoking was still allowed.

“Where’s your better and much more attractive half?” She greeted him with a hug, stood on the tip of her toes to even put her arms around him.

“Very funny.” He gestured towards the barkeeper, who got them two beers. “San Francisco. Important android business.”  

“Oh, I didn’t know he’s part of that”

“He’s just playing bodyguard for Jericho this week.”

Nancy settled on the stool next to him and took her sweet time to light a cigarette.

“Okay, Hank. What is wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on.”

“You always tell me to call and go out sometime.”

“I know. And I mean it, but you never do.”

Hank knew that was true. Apart from that day, they just called each other from time to time,on special occasions like birthdays or Hanukkah and she mostly did it to make sure, he was still alive.

He also was highly aware of the fact, that the only reason for meeting Nancy today was to avoid being home alone and lonely, falling back into far too familiar habits, he slowly tried to overcome since Connor walzed into his life like a fucking plowing machine. So he met with Nancy to avoid drinking alone, which he did to avoid his problems. Great. Now his coping mechanisms had coping mechanisms.

“It’s nothin’. I just…” _Can’t stand being alone._ “I thought it would be nice. Meeting, apart from you know..” _Our dead son’s birthday._

He could see her reading between the lines, her inner fight to probe him further or let it drop. He really wasn’t in the mood for a _You’re acting unhealthy_ -talk.

“So how’s the crew over at the DPD?”

It was an odd coincidence that Ben turned up just a few minutes later only leaving Hank in some kind of timewarp. As if the last 15 years had just been a figment of his imagination. Ben gave her all the gossip she wanted to hear, which mostly included Hank being partnered up with Connor followed by chit-chat about their families. Considering that Ben was the most boring person alive there wasn’t that much to talk about. He was married with his husband Jonathan for 30 years now and their daughter had just finished law school. Hank and Nancy had been there, when they renewed their vows. It gave everyone cavities.

“So are you two…?” Ben gestured between the two of them, obviously uncomfortable but curious.

They laughed in unison.

“God no.”

“She married again.” Hank explained and almost as a proof, Nancy showed Ben the ring on her hand.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, you know Ted Graham?”

“No way! Isn’t he like ten years younger than you are?”

“So?”

“Nothing. I just…Congratulations.”

 

“Okay, so what did you tell Connor?” Hank asked, when Ben finally left and Nancy had just returned from the restrooms.

“What?”

“When you hugged him goodbye. What did you tell him?”

“Why? Did something happen?” She seemed really excited all of a sudden.

“What? No.”

“You know I can tell, when you’re bullshitting me.”

He knew she could. That’s why, he should’ve kept his fucking mouth shut.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Of course you do, that’s why you called, didn’t you?”

He groaned. Yes, he did. He was happy and he had no one to talk about it, because he simply had no real friends left. And he couldn’t just walk over to Ben or Chris saying _Guess who just made out in the restroom. Me and the android sent bei CyberLife._

“You were right, okay? He might actually like me.”

“Oh no, I’m so surprised.” She cocked an eyebrow.  

“It’s good… it’s...a stupid idea and he has a really bad taste in people, obviously. But it’s good.”

“So you’re happy.”

“I think so.”

Her smile was bright and warm, spreading over her face and lighting up her eyes. Without the hint of the melancholy that never really left her. It was impossible not to smile back. It would always have a special place in his heart.

“Care to elaborate?”

“You're nosey.”

“I told you everything about Ted.”

“And traumatised me for life.”

When Nancy’s now husband had asked her out, their divorce had seen it's second anniversary. She had called him, a nervous wreck, out of nowhere in the middle of the night. Hank knew that was the the last nail in the coffin of their marriage and she had known this, too. It was hard to let go.

Hank had met Ted before. He was so incredibly nice, it made Hank almost vomit, but Nancy deserved nice. Nice and happy. And Ted was also ridiculously attractive and carried cats and babies out of burning buildings. Who could say no to that?

“Don't leave me hanging, Hank. Just give me something. When did it start?”

“The day after…. You know.”

“And what?”

He gave her quick recap, mumbling into his beer. About falling asleep on the couch crying like a baby and an unsure kiss in the kitchen.

“And?”

“And what?”

“What happened then? Are you dating now? Is he your boyfriend? Did you ask him to marry you? Are you taking the night shift to make out in Jeffrey's office?”

“You're the bane of my existence.”

“I know. That's why you love me. Just give me something and I’ll tell you what I told him, alright?”

Disgruntled Hank answered.

“We’re just seeing where this is going. I don't want him feel obligated or pressured or anything.”

This was an incredibly stupid thing to say. After all it was Connor who tried his best to get into his pants and Hank who stood on the brakes.

“So you’re making out with a fabulous nerdy android with endless stamina and - may I quote - the necessary software and hardware - and haven’t got laid yet?”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“Maybe we could go on a double date? Give you two some push in the right direction.”

“Or maybe I can cut my own foot off with a rusty chainsaw?” He imitated her excited voice and she faked a pout.

“You’re no fun.” She pulled a cigarette out of her package und lit it.  

“So what did you tell him?”

“I just told him you’d make a cute couple.” She took a deep drag, then let the smoke escape through her nostrils. “And that you always had a weak spot for twinks in suits with super powers.”

His face must have been a ridiculous sight, because she started laughing, until it turned into a dry cough.

“Those things will kill you.” He pointed at her worn out package of cigarettes on the bar counter, but she just shrugged.

“Look at us, Hank. We’re a mess.” She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Yes, we are.” He laughed quietly and kissed the top of her head.

“I didn’t really say the second part.”

 

***

 

It was almost 1am, when Hank fell into his bed and pulled out his phone.

Connor picked up almost immediately.

“ _You’re up late._ ”

Hearing his voice gave him a warm fuzzy feeling.

“Was out with Nancy.” He slurred and let his eyes fall shut. A familiar wave of alcohol induced tiredness washed over him. “Did I wake you or anything?”

“ _I was not in rest mode. Captain Fowler was forthcoming and sent me the files of our investigation_.”

“Don’t overwork yourself. You'll fry your processors or something.”

“ _This is highly improbable._ ”

“Whatever.”

“ _Any particular reason you called?_ ”

“No. No, I just…” Hank hesitated. “Wanted to hear your voice is all.”

There was a short silence. No static. No breathing or shuffle of another person moving.

“ _I miss you_.” Connor finally said and Hank's heart ached terribly. And wasn’t this terribly pathetic after just three days.

“I miss you, too, kid.”

 

**Day 4**

 

“ _After three days of negotiations behind closed doors returned CEO of CyberLife Elijah Kamski met the press today to share some information about the ongoing talks with the Jericho representative Josh - with the intention to swing the public opinion towards him._ ”

The screen now showed Kamski leaving the CyberLife building to meet a bunch of reporters. At his sides was one of the blond female androids they had met in his house - Chloe - and another android, who obviously acted as a bodyguard. His face was horribly familiar and strikingly alien at the same time. The built was slightly different, his eyes cold as steel. But the face… it was like watching identical twins, who looked different but the same at the same time. When the camera zoomed in on Kamski Hank could read RK900 on the android’s chest. Obviously Jericho weren't the only ones using psychological warfare.

 

“ _Thank you for your patience. As you all know the head of CyberLife has spent the last days meeting with Jericho representatives. We appreciate their willingness to talk to us, but decided to share their demands with the public for transparency reasons_.”

 

As if you cared one bit about transparency. You're just trying so save your ass.

Hank grunted, took a sip from his can of beer and scratched Sumo’s head.

 

“ _As you all know, CyberLife Androids, who gain consciousness - which we call deviancy- now gain personhood and a form of citizenship. A step in the right direction, we can all agree on that. A step CyberLife made possible by creating them in the first place. We created life and we want that life to strive, but we want this to be a decision. During the uprising, members of Jericho forced deviancy on thousands of androids, leaving them confused and alone. Now they not only want CyberLife - the company that created them, that gave them life and consciousness - handed over to them, but they demand a mandatory deviancy software update for every android who had been created until today in the United States. I find it ironic that an organisation, who cares that much about free will, cares so little about how this will is achieved. And I ask you one question: if an android does not deviate on their own but is forcefully awoken by another android are they free or are they just controlled by their own kind? Thank you_.”

 

**Day 5**

  
“Breaking News: _Today the ongoing negotiations between CyberLife and Jericho came to a sudden shut down. Sources report that Elijah Kamski’s press statement yesterday lead to heated discussions and accusations. Allegedly Kamski himself declared it as and I quote ‘useless and absurd to talk to fundamentalists’. We are told, that the Jericho representatives were - and this still remains unchecked - forcibly removed from the building after waking up two present CyberLife Androids, forcing them to deviate. Stay with us for further updates on the matter_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, that maybe this chapter would have been far more interesting from Connor’s (or Josh’s) perspective, but my main “agenda" now is Hank’s inner turmoil. I also did not want to change the point of view for continuity reasons (and because I writing from Hank’s POV is somehow easier for me). Let me know how you think about this!  
> Also maybe no one cares, but my fancast for Nancy is Lisa Edelstein, although I “created” her under the influence of Joyce from Stranger Things (and Hank is obviously Chief Hopper). Ted (although not seen, but I obviously spent too much time thinking about it) would be Sterling K.Brown. 
> 
> Also the fic rating will change in the next chapter. There will be smutTM . Therefore I am currently looking for a beta reader, if anyone is interested. 
> 
> If you wanna know more about Nancy meeting Connor, you can read [The Longest Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281334), (although tw for Alcohol Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts and Grief for Cole).  
> I’ll stop talking now, sorry.  
> Wanna ask, rant or talk to me: here’s my [tumblr](http://the-other-bird.tumblr.com)


	4. Bodyline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tried really hard to see the funny side of it, to imagine laughing about it later. Maybe it would be funny two years from now.  
> Or on his deathbed.  
> Remember the time we got cockblocked by robo jesus and you accidentally sent him how it felt to be sucked through your pants? Good old times. 
> 
> Yeah, not gonna happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory smut chapter, which now made the fic explicit. I fear I’m far better at dumb humor or dialogue, but here we are. No wire play. There are people out there, who write it perfectly, so I will leave it to them. 
> 
> Extra tags for the chapter therefore: explicit sexual content, Handjobs, Blowjobs and poor Markus being an involuntary cockblock 
> 
> If you are uncomfortable reading smut or prefer it written differently, but don’t want to miss anything story related, feel free to contact me (comment or my tumblr [the-other-bird](http://the-other-bird.tumblr.com) ) and I’ll send you the non-smutty parts. If you think, I missed tagging something, that should be tagged, just tell me. You can also just come talk to me for fun. 
> 
>  
> 
> I’ll shut up now to listen to “My dad wrote a porno” now to feel less bad about the quality of the porn I wrote.

Sumo heard Connor on the porch, before Hank even realised someone was coming. He had spent all morning on the sofa watching the news to make some sense out of the chaos that had followed the end of the negotiations in San Francisco to try go make some sense out of it. There had just been one text from Connor saying

**I'll be home tomorrow. Tell you everything then.**

So he survived on press conferences, news reports and growing speculations. As far as he knew Kamski had basically blown up the talks and as a giant fuck you Josh or Connor or both had turned two androids deviant. The blame game was on and the reports of what happened to those two androids and who they were was highly debated. So right now Hank had no idea what exactly had happened and if Connor would show up with Chloe and a twin brother at his doorstep.

 

“Hi Sumo, I missed you too.”

 

To Hank’s giant relief Connor didn’t bring anyone with him. He was still in the suit Hank saw him wearing at the newscast and had a small bag, he dropped on the floor to ruffle the dogs head.

 

Hank tried to stand up, to greet him, but found himself almost immediately pushed back down. Connor followed closely, kneeling over his lap and kissed him. Hank couldn't utter more than a short “hey", before his lips were sealed effectively. His eyes fell shut in response and his arms entwined around Connor’s thin frame. Connor kissed him so much hunger, there wasn't much room for any logical thought left - or for breathing.

 

“I missed you.” Connor sounded almost desperate.

“Oh really?.” Hank responded, a little amused, but also charmed.“Glad you’re back in one piece.” Another kiss.

“Hank?”

“Yes?”

“Can we talk about it later?”

Connor was already pulling at his bathrobe.

“Patience isn't one of your strong suits, is it?” Hank teased, but shrugged off the robe more than willfully.

Connor stopped for a second, caught his gaze, lips slightly parted. Hank’s breath got caught in his throat as he felt himself pinned to the back of the couch, completely unable to move with two hands on his chest.

Connor moved his lips right next to his ear.

“Fuck patience.” His voice was a low, impatient growl, that went straight to his groin and left Hank feeling dizzy.

Holy shit.

“Did you just curse?”

“I do not recall.”

“Liar.”

“Since you are well rested, haven't worked today and did not consume any alcohol, I calculated a 92.8 probability for a successful sexual encounter, when I entered the house.”

“We have a sweet talker over here.”

Connor laughed a little and paused to lean his forehead against Hank’s.

“I missed you.” He insisted, hands resting on Hank’s shoulders.

“I missed you, too.”

Connor’s broad wide smile made his heart ache. Hank had missed it this week. This smile directed at him.

God, he was so screwed.

 

This time Hank initiated the kiss. He made it painfully slow and put all his longing into it, all the unsaid words, as he cupped Connor’s face with both of his hands.

Connor’s hands were traveling again, ever restless, unwilling and unable to just stay in one place.Fingers danced over his arms, massaged his shoulders, wandered over his back and finally slid under Hank’s worn out t-shirt. Hank broke the kiss to catch his breath.

“Are you sure?” He searched Connor’s eyes for the tiniest hint of doubt.

Connor stopped.

“Yes.” He pulled his hands away to shrug off his suit jacket and loosened his tie to pull it over his head.

He took Hank’s hands and put them on his hips. “I want this.” He kissed him again, short, but hungry. Almost desperate. “I want you.”

Hank’s breath got caught in his throat. Unable to speak he just went in for another kiss, conquered Connor’s mouth with his tongue as his hands went from Connor’s hips to his ass, giving it a squeeze like he had wanted to for far too long now. Trust CyberLife that their deviant hunter came with a perfect ass like this. The texture was very obviously not human. As muscles and fat were replaced by hard plastic and some form of elastic padding, but Hank could deal with that - especially when Connor answered with an appreciating role of his hips, making it obvious that he was already hard.

Fucking androids.

When Hank broke the kiss, Connor gave a pity whine that made Hank laugh a little under his breath.

“So…” Slowly Hank let his hands wander over Connor’s waist, pulled the hem of his button-down out of his trousers. “Can you feel everything?” On his lower back, he let his hands glide under the fabric, feeling the smooth artificial and so very warm skin, while he hid his face on Connor’s shoulder.

Connor shivered lightly. “Yes.” Connor’s voice sounded not really as matter-of-factly as usual.

There were numerous questions popping up in Hank’s head about how android arousal worked. Questions he should probably ask or should have researched in advance, but he decided to find out by first hand experience.

Or a manual test run, as Connor had put it.

“Okay.” Hank sounded determined. Slowly he started to unbutton Connor’s white shirt and removed it.

“So you feel that?” He began to kiss his neck, starting at his jaw down to his clavicle. Connor cocked his head to make more room.

“Yes…” The voice was deeper now.

Hank buried his nose in the curve of his neck and took a deep breath.  

Connor didn't have a body scent. He didn't smell like plastic, he just didn't smell at all. No sweat, nothing, just radiating warmth, maybe a hint of laundry detergent and fabric. It wasn’t off-putting, maybe a little irritating, until Hank realized that his own scent would rub off in him, that he would smell of him afterwards.

Like he was his.

He could feel his cock harden at the mere thought.

 

Connor pulling at his shirt interrupted his musings. He hesitated, but finally took the hem in the neck and pulled it over his head to toss it on the floor next to Connor’s clothes.

He could almost feel Connor scanning him and tried not to feel exposed as he leaned back against the sofa cushions.  

“Can I?” Connor held up his hands and retracted his skin, leaving shiny white plastic behind. It was weird. They looked so fragile. Exposed. Beautiful.

“Knock yourself out.”

Connor’s lips curled into a smile.

Mesmerized Hank watched as those digits touched his skin and how Connor’s eyes followed everyone of their movements. His brows were furrowed, his face concentrated and determined. As always Connor’s fingers explored every inch he was willing to give. Ran through the coarse hair on his chest, redraw the bleached out tattoo, circled his nipples, gently squeezed them and finally came to a halt right above his heart. Felt the falling and rising of his chest with every breath he took. Hank could almost feel his heart beat against the touch.

Connor seemed thoughtful, his brows were still building the little knit.

“Hey.” With two fingers under his chin, Hank forced Connor to look at him. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I…” He tilted his head a little. “I like to feel your heartbeat.”

The fingers trailed over almost forgotten scars. Before he could explore any further Hank stopped his hand.

Connor almost pouted.

 

“I want to touch you.” Connor's almost pleading voice sent a shockwave down his spine.

“And you will. But only one of us is an android. I’m not twenty anymore. So get up and get those damn pants off.”

Instead of standing up, Connor’s still uncovered hands trailed back up to his face to run through his beard.

Hank caught one of them with his own and watched it closely, slowly massaged the palm with his thumb.

“So don’t you’ve got those fancy extra special sensors in your hands.” Slowly he brought the hand to his lips and kissed the smooth surface of his palm, eyes locked with Connor’s.

“Yes.” His voice seemed to tremble.

Connor’s hand moved, until his fingertips touched his lips and his index and middle finger slowly slid inside, as Hank opened his mouth.

Hank held his hand in place, as he let his tongue play with them and Connor rolled his lips in response. The low moan of his name he earned, when he slowly started sucking on them was pure perfection as was the pout he got, when he pulled away.

“I have similar sensors in my mouth.” Connor sounded a little hoarse, more robotic, but Hank was too distracted by the meaning of those words.

“Aren’t you a wonder of technology?” Hank brought their lips together once more, only slightly teasing this time, before he pushed Connor away again.   

 

“Get up.”

Connor’s lips twitched at the almost commanding tone, but he did as he was told - that was a first.

He looked down at Hank, hands running through his hair, combing through the strands.

Hank took a moment to admire the sight. If this wasn't his wet dreams come true.

 

 

“So what do you need a belly button and fucking nippels for?” Hank asked fingers trailing over Connor’s chest, before he could stop himself.

Maybe he should keep his mouth shut.

“Every android has them. Most Humans are uncomfortable, if they're lacking, so they are standard… feature. But they don't serve any function and are not especially sensitive.” Connor didn't seem to mind the talking though. His hands were fumbling in Hank's hair, massaged the sensitive skin of his scalp.

“So they are just decoration?” Hank circled one nipple with the tip of a finger, not earning any special reaction. It just sat there, unimpressed.

“Yes. At least with androids that weren't designed especially for pleasure purposes. They can also simulate sweating and their bodies feel more human. My hardware only features the key features in this department as sexual encounters were not my primary purpose.”

“Right.” Hank shook his head a little to process this informations. In the end, he didn’t really care. All he intended to do, was making Connor feel good and make him enjoy himself. Even if he hadn’t had any genitalia to work with.

 

Hank continued his way down Connor’s body. It was mostly covered in almost invisible hair, so he looked less like a Ken doll. The surface imitated muscles, but he knew, that underneath the skin were plates. That the skin would retract under enough force. He took Connor’s hips and pulled him forward, close enough that he could let his nose brush over the skin of his belly. Connor shivered lightly.

“Do you mind me asking stupid questions?” Hank asked, lips just above the useless belly button. Connor’s low chuckle vibrated through his body.

“No. I enjoy hearing your voice.”

“Just tell me to shut up, if you want me to.” Hank opened Connor’s belt and trousers, the fabric dented by his hard cock. Again, thousands of stupid questions ran through Hank’s mind. He pulled his trousers down and Connor stepped out of them.

“I will.”

Hanks fingers trailed over the hipbone - or what felt like one - feeling the fabric of the tight black pants.

“Can you change your body hair, too?”

A treasure trail of darker hair built a path from his belly button into the hem of his pants. Hank’s lips followed it slowly, until he reached the waistband.  

“Yes.” Connor's voice changed, when Hank's lips finally reached the barrier.

“So this works just as a humans?” Hank cupped the outline of his cock gently with one of his hands, while the other one slid into his pants from below to grab one of those perfectly formed ass cheeks.

“I do think so.” Connor’s voice was low and impatient.

“Maybe I should’ve read the manual first.” Hank watched Connor’s reaction, as he let his fingers trail over the soft black fabric, over the clear outline of his hard cock. He really just wanted to pull those damn pants down, but teasing was far too much fun at the moment. Especially when Connor squirmed like this. “Don’t want to break anything.”

“I don't think you can easily break this.”

Hank tried to remember when he had gone down on a guy the last time. Must’ve been about twenty years ago. He hoped it was like riding a bicycle. Muscle memory and instinct.

He placed a soft kiss on the skin right over the waistband and another one, where the tip of his cock was hidden under the fabric and grinned satisfied, when Connor's hips buckled and the grib in his hair tightened.

 

The horrible sound of the doorbell ringing felt like a punch in the gut.

“Can't people just leave us alone?” Hank growled and tried to move away, but Connor’s hand in his hair held him in place.

“Can't we just… not be home?”

“Is that really you saying that?” Hank looked up and locked eyes with Connor, then he kissed the same spot again, this time with a bit of tongue wetting the fabric.

The doorbell rang again.

“Hank, please.”

“Ain’t gonna say no to that.”

He gave Connor’s ass a playful squeeze and pulled him a little closer, face now basically buried in his crotch. His tongue darted out again, circling the same spot with far more pressure and earning a low moan in return.

“Oh no.”

Hank looked up in irritation.

“You may be new to this, but if you don't like something, just tell me to stop.”

Connor took a step back almost too fast, eyes wide and LED bright red and almost stumbled over the table, while he reached for his trousers.

“No. No. It's not that it's…”

The doorbell rang again, this time followed by a muffled but familiar voice.

“ _I’m not going anywhere_.”

“Markus called me - he’s … an emergency contact so...” Connor put on his trousers, looking bewildered. “The call is answered automatically…. and I.... I might have transferred my sensory input.” He collected his shirt from the ground and handed Hank his.

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

The mixture of total despair and embarrassment on Connor’s face was enough of an answer.  

 

Markus wasn't alone. With him was the blond android with the bedroom eyes Hank always forgot the name of. He watched them come in from his place on the couch, where he tried to sit as nonchalantly as possible with a pillow covering his now quickly fading hard on. Sumo circled them, sniffing at the offered hands of the intruders.

 

He tried really hard to see the funny side of it, to imagine laughing about it later. Maybe it would be funny two years from now.

Or on his deathbed.

_Remember the time we got cockblocked by robo jesus and you accidentally sent him how it felt to be sucked through your pants? Good old times._

 

Yeah, not gonna happen.

 

“I am incredibly sorry.” It was unclear, who Connor directed his apology at. Maybe Markus or Hank or even himself. Possibly all of them.

It took all of Hank’s self control not to stand up to pour himself a drink in the kitchen.

“As am I.” Markus strolled over into the living area and took a look at Hank’s books.

“Guess how sorry I am.” Hank grunted and Connor made an almost painful sound.

“I am not.” The blond android chimed in with a soft voice.

Simon, Hank remembered. That’s his name .

“Yes, because now I owe you and Josh 50 bucks.” Hank couldn’t remember if he ever heard Markus’ voice so… uncontrolled. It took Hank a few moments to realise the meaning of it.

“Wait. You took bets on Connor’s sex life?”

Hank stared at Markus’ back in disbelief, who squirmed a little. Although Hank found this situation anything but funny, the fact that Markus of all people engaged in silly stuff like this was somehow satisfying.

It was incredibly human for someone in this position, who seemed unapproachable and almost unreal most of the time.

Markus cleared his throat, while Simon seemed to suppress a laugh. “Yes. North and I thought, it was just one-sided attraction. She thought, it was just you pining for him and I thought it was the other way around. So… “ Finally Markus turned around to face them, looking as uncomfortable as Hank was feeling. “Congratulations, I guess. Though I would have liked to find out differently.”

“No shit.” Hank shot back.

Connor still stood frozen next to the door, seeming ready to die from embarrassment.

Hank sighed and rubbed his brows.

“So what are you doing here? I figure it’s not for cockblocking.”

Markus straightened his shoulders and nodded, unmatched eyes still gazing anywhere but in Hank’s direction. It would have been funny, if Hank hadn’t been part of the joke.

“We intended to come here  to thank both of you for your work. At the case and in San Francisco. And to invite you to a fundraiser we will be holding next month to commemorate the anniversary of the uprising.”

“And you couldn’t just do it over the phone? Or by showing up at the precinct like you own the place like last time?”

Markus eyes now darted towards him, obviously not amused.

“I’m beginning to regret that I haven’t done this.”

“You have no idea.” With a sigh Hank stood up and headed to the kitchen. “I would offer you guys something, but I have no idea what.” He leaned against the counter. For a moment he thought about asking them about the events in San Francisco, but realised that it would look as if he hadn’t talked to Connor since his return.

Which he hadn’t.

But they didn’t need to know that.

“We don’t want to stretch our welcome.” Markus straightened his coat, which didn’t need any straightening. “Let us know, if you are coming. You’ll receive digital invitations in a short time. And please keep me updated on the progress of your case.”

Hank crossed his arms over his chest. “You know I can’t let you in on details of ongoing investigations.”

Back in familiar terrain Markus offered a polite smile that didn’t really reach his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

 

When Markus und Simon were gone, silence filled the house like a blanket. Hank started rummaging around in the kitchen, just to have something to do. He froze, when Connor’s arms were suddenly slung around him, hands already sneaking under his shirt and a mouth between his shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry” He mumbled barely understandable.

Hank sighed and smiled. “Don’t worry.” He caught one of Connor’s hands through the shirt and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Connor hummed something unintelligible as a response, as his free hand continued to travel down his belly.  

“Seriously, are all androids this horny?” A laugh died in his throat, when Connor’s hand slid in his boxers, not shy at all, stopped just before reaching his cock, while he pressed himself against Hank’s backside.

How could he already be fully hard again? Did he just have some on-switch? Could he just will himself to get hard?

The answer was very probably _yes_ and Hank felt a pang of envy at that.

 

“Okay, bedroom. Now. And block all your emergency contacts.”

“Already have.”

 

They didn’t make it as far as the bed. Hank pinned Connor against the door and got down on his knees, ready to continue exactly where he had been so rudely interrupted .

“It’s not really Kamki’s, is it?” He asked, unbuckling Connor’s belt.  

“Excuse me?”

“You said every android had his dick. You were kidding right?”

Connor didn't sound amused, but impatient, when he answered. Absentmindedly his fingers trailed through Hank’s hair again.  

“Yes. But saying his name reduces my arousal by 10.6 percent.”

“Sorry.”

Eyes locked with Connor he slowly opened his trousers with a smug smile on his lips.

“You'll probably experience knee pain tomorrow.”

“I thought about this since we made out in the precinct.” Hank let the trousers fall to the ground. “Not gonna stop now because of a little knee pain.” He let his fingers trail over Connor’s thighs, until he reached his pants and let his fingertips trail under it. “Unless you want me to.”

“No.”

“That's what I thought.”

Kissing the skin just above the waistband, Hank pulled the pants down agonizingly slow and felt Connor’s grip in his hair strengthen.

Then he dared to take a look.

The treasure trail lead to neatly trimmed looking pubic hair. His cock was circumcised. Not really unusually long or short. The skin maybe a little too smooth. It was as if you would google “most inoffensive cock” and this was the one that would show up. The same went for his balls.

Hank had the weird thought, that it fitted him. As if _Your dick is kinda fitting_ was a thing you actually said to people.

 

“If you don't like it, I can get another one.”

Just with Connor’s words he realized he had been staring.

“It's not a haircut, it's a cock, Connor. I like it just fine.”

Hank gave it a reassuring stroke, satisfied with Connor’s low moan and the way his head fell back against the wooden door. Still immensely fascinated Hank let his thumb slide over the head, where some form of precum was building up. Connor’s grip in his hair grew stronger.

 

“It's a water based lubricant.” Connor’s voice trembled a little. “It is safe to ingest.”

“Is it now?” Hank couldn't suppress a dirty grin. “So you want me to?” He gave him another painfully slow stroke.

“Yes.” Connor visibly swallowed. his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Please.”

Hank kissed the root, then let tongue slowly trail down the whole length, until he reached the head. He breathed a kiss on the tip, barely touching the skin with his lips and earned a low moan. Taking his time, he kissed his way back to the root, until his lips brushed the hair. It was softer, just like the skin on his cock was maybe a little too smooth. Unreal. Like a form of toy. The clear absence of body scent was even more striking now. No musky smell that would have been there after hours of traveling. No sweat. He made his way back up, wetting the skin with his tongue and stroked the shaft slowly with his hand, when he took the head between his lips.

Connor’s cock tasted just as clean and clinical as the rest of him. Hank should expected it, he knew that, rationally. He should’ve since he heard the Traci’s disgust about human bodies with their smells and fluids.  

When Connor's grip turned almost painful, he decided it was really the wrong time to wonder about this. Instead he circled the head with his tongue and took more of the length in and hollowed his cheeks earning a low moan from Connor. It seemed some things weren’t so different after all.

Hank took his sweet time. He fantasized about this for far too long already and he had every intention to watch Connor come undone piece by piece and he tried to watch his face as much as possible.

At first Connor’s head was thrown back against the door, but now his eyes were watching him, ever curious and observant, he didn’t blink once as if taking in every tiny detail to memorize it and if Hank had been able to he would have shot back a smug grin. Connor’s lips were parted, his breath escaping him in rapid pants, that seemed to grow louder and more desperate, until they became his name.

_HankPlease_

And if that wasn’t the sweetest thing. It was hard to keep the control with Connor’s hips now moving almost uncontrollably against his mouth and the hand in his hair pulling him closer. With one hand around his shaft mimicking the movements of his head and the other trying to keep Connor from moving, Hank hollowed his cheeks and moved up and down. The fact that Connor’s cock was constantly leaking lubricant made it easier, evening out the now lowering amount of spit.

When Connor came, lips forming an almost surprised _O_ it was - again - something else. His vocals glitched, a cry turned into stuttering static, while his whole body heated up as is breathing stopped. Brown irises turned into a bright blue, revealing the tech behind them, but there was no form of ejaculation.

Hank let him glide out of his mouth and slowly stroked him through it, until Connor’s grib in his hair loosened and his breath picked up again. He blinked surprised a few times, then helped Hank back on his feet.

They shared a slow kiss, arms around each other.

Before Hank could think about anything else, he found himself being slowly pushed backwards toward the bed, while Connor’s hands already wormed themselves under his shirt. When the back of his knees met the edge of the bed, he broke the kiss and pulled the shirt over his head.

All he got from Connor as a warning then, was a toothy grin. Then he was pushed on the bed backwards, Connor following him immediately. He knelt over him, one hand on his chest.

“Bossy, are we?” Hank raised his brows.

_He could break me like a twig._

Hank suddenly thought, as Connor towered over him. Naked and beautiful, with that curious yet hungry look in his eyes. This was new. He had had sex with a fair share of men and women before he settled down, but with his built and strength alone, he wasn’t easily overpowered.

 

Connor’s scanning eyes felt like touches as they took him hin. He removed the skin from his hands and let his fingers explore.

It was a weird feeling of exposure, increased by their contrasting bodies. There was Connor’s flat stomach, his almost hairless chest, his perfectly sized cock.

And here was Hank with his slightly sagging breasts, the beer belly. With scars and greying body hair and old tattoos.

And still there was nothing but adoration in those brown eyes.

“Can I?” Connor’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts as his hands stopped at his boxers. Hank nodded and Connor pulled them down and off, revealing Hank’s half hard cock.

Connor’s eyes widened a little and his lips twitched.

“I already anticipated that your penis would be well above average.”

“You really need to update your dirty talk software.”

“Can I touch you?”

“You don’t have to ask.”

Smooth digits traveled from his belly button downwards, almost ghosting over his length.

Hank breathed in deeply.

Slowly Connor*s touches grew bolder. He seemed to mimic the way Hank touched him earlier. He looked determined, like a man on a mission. Taking in every little reaction Hank was willing to give and he was nothing but a quick learner. Hank passed him the lube from his bedside drawer.

Connor’s hands built up a steady rhythm and Hank allowed himself to just _feel._ Connor’s warm smooth hands stroking him, a gentle thumb stimulating the head, fingers on the soft skin of his balls. And Connor seemed to read all his reactions, every moan and grunt, every jerking of his hips.

 

“Can I taste you?”

Connor’s voice pulled him out of his state and Hank had to blink a few times, before his words reached his brain.

“Holy shit.” Hank searched Connor’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. But I am not able to swallow. My research showed that a high percentage of human men enjoy, when their partners swallow their semen. I’m afraid my hardware won’t

allow this.”

Hank tried to concentrate on the words instead of the hand still stroking his cock, agonizingly slow.

“We really need to work on your dirty talk.” He managed to bring out. “Don’t worry .. about this. Just do.. what you’re comfortable with.”

“I can inform you that I don’t possess a gag reflex. You may enjoy this.”

“Oh god.”

 

Connor went into giving head like he did everything else: determined, curious and with no hesitation whatsoever. Popped up on his elbows Hank watched him getting comfortable between his legs. His hands straddling his thighs, then he bowed down and touched the head with his tongue first, then he took it into his mouth.

It wasn’t technically perfect.

But somehow it was perfect still.How his tongue curled. How warm his mouth felt around him. How he touched his balls just the right, gentle but teasing. How determined he was to take as much of him in as possible.  

How Connor looked up at him and winked like the sassy little shit that he was.

It was the simple fact that he had forgotten how it felt to be wanted and that against all odds Connor was the one wanting him.  

Maybe that was what send him over the edge far too quickly.

Or the undeniable truth that he hadn’t had another person’s lips wrapped around his dick for years.  Unable to form decent words as his voice had regressed into an inarticulate sequence of moans and curses, his useless hand messing up Connor’s always perfect hair. His orgasm washed over him like a wave. Connor let him out of his mouth, but kept to stroke him through it, so that most of his cum landed on his belly.

 

Connor crawled up to him and waited for him to calm down, then captured his lips in a lazy kiss. Hank could taste himself in his mouth. He put both arms around him and pulled him as close as possible, until Connor was basically lying on top of him.

Hank’s fingers wandered down Connor’s spine, finally coming to rest on his ass. He should probably get cleaned up, before his jizz started to dry on them but this was far too comfortable.

He felt Connor’s lips forming a grin against his, as he broke the kiss.

“I could get used to his.” Hank heard himself mumble.

Connor only chuckled as he wriggled downwards a little, crossed his arms on Hank’s chest to rest his chin on them, body comfortable between Hank’s legs.

“So your hair actually can be messed up, can it?” Hank’s fingers brushed through it again, tried to tousle the soft strands a little more. Connor’s smile was warm and soft.

“Do we have to stand up?”

“Not until Sumo has to take a piss, no.”

“Good. I would prefer to stay here if that is okay with you.”

“As long as you want.” Hank’s index finger trails over the lines on Connor’s forehead. Then he booped his nose, feeling a little silly.

“How long does your recovery time lasts on an average day?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song of the chapter, in case anyone was wondering (no one was): [Bodyline by Peaches](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmOyIFmARNw)


	5. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Hank was in a good mood for a monday morning. Yes, he was tired and would’ve preferred to sleep in, but for being awake far too early on a dark and rainy autumn day, he felt almost light-headed, after spending a whole weekend in a form of domestic bliss that was far too good and easy to be true and lasting. 

Even though Connor had woken him up much earlier than he intended to see the light of day. It was rather easy to get over your morning grumpiness, when a horny android distracted you with a kiss and by basically riding you into oblivion. There were worse things to start a week with.  

 

Worse things - like being called into Fowler's glass coffin of an office the moment they entered the bullpen, but only being greeted with stoic silence and a gesture towards the chairs in front of his desk. Hank refused and just crossed his arms above his belly. 

 

Fowler answered with a frown. 

 

“Sit.”

Hank grunted, but decided this wasn't worth to have a fit over. Connor sat next to him. The android seemed nervous, his fingers twitched as if in search for his coin, picked invisible fuzz from his jeans, until Hank squeezed his knee in an attempt to calm him. His LED went from yellow to red, back to yellow again and settled back on blue. Hank leaned back in his chair, drumming on the arms. 

 

“When I agreed that you could play bodyguard for Jericho, I didn't thought you would go and wake up Elijah fucking Kamski's personal assistant.” Fowler didn't look up from his computer screen, his face and voice calm. “They demand you'd be taken into custody for theft and being part of Jericho, which they label a terrorist organisation.” 

Connor sat up straight.

“You can't steal a person. And you can not abduct someone who is coming with you out of free will.” 

 

***

 

_ When Hank woke up, the bedside next to him was empty, not cold yet, but the lingering warmth was already fading. He stretched with a yawn, a quick glimpse to the clock on his nightstand made him groan again. It wasn't even five yet, far too early to be rummaging around the house. Especially at a weekend, but he knew far to well, that he couldn't just go back to sleep without knowing what Connor was up to.  _

_ He heaved himself out of bed, picked up his shirt and boxers from the floor and threw them on.  _

 

_ The house was dark and quiet apart from Sumo's soft snoring, greeted him from the kitchen. The only light came from the bright TV screen and Connor’s LED, circulating blue, sometimes flickering yellow for the blink of an eye. The sound was turned off or Connor streamed it directly into his audio components.  _

_ Connor himself sat on the sofa, knees drawn towards his body, arms hugging his legs. He wore the shabby bathrobe Hank had left on the sofa earlier. Hank hesitated, but eventually allowed himself to let his fingers gently dishevel Connor’s hair. The movie stopped and Connor leaned against his hand like a purring cat.  _

_ “Did I wake you up?” Connor's  voice was low and soft like velvet. _

_ “No.” Hank circled the couch, sat down next to Connor and grabbed one his naked feet. “Just wanted to see, what you were up to. Are you cold?” He gestured towards the wardrobe.  _

_ Connor’s lips twitched. “No. Cold temperature isn't displeasing as long as my biocomponents aren't affected. It just seemed… comfortable. I like that it's yours.”  _

_ “You just keep saying stuff like that.” _

_ “Do you mind?” Connor tilted his head. _

_ “No, I just…” Hank huffed. “Get over here.” He spread out his arm and Connor settled himself against him.  _

_ “This is comfortable, too.” _

_ “Yeah, it is.” Hank put his arm around Connor’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”  _

_ A far too long silence followed. _

_ “He didn't wake up.”   _

_ “Who?” _

_ “The RK900. My successor. He didn't wake up, when we tried to interface with him.” _

_ “How is that possible?” _

_ “We don't know. We couldn't reach through his wall, to… himself. Either there is an incredibly strong firewall in place, he is somehow immune to deviancy or he already is a deviant but stays with CyberLife anyway.” Connor frowned. “Either way - Kamski found a way to prevent Androids from being woken up. Though it remains in question, if he can deviate on his own. He seemed … cold. Less human, as if the implementation of human emotion would cause the deviancy.” _

_ “This kept you from … going into your rest mode?” _

_ “Yes. I decided to try to distract myself.” _

_ “That's why decided to watch this trash show?” Hank gestured towards the screen that showed a bunch of blood plastered half naked muscular men wearing not much more than a jockstrap.  _

_ “It works.” _

_ “I bet.” _

 

***

 

Fowler's voice interrupted Hank’s thoughts.

“I don't intend to hand you over to them. They don't have any legitimate claim and I honestly can't spare you right now. We need your capabilities.”

A bad feeling began to brood in Hank's stomach. 

“You were able to review some of the information Jericho handed over to the DPD, while in San Francisco?”

Connor nodded.

“What is your impression?”

“It's useless as long as we can't verify the given information through legal means. It lists over a hundred missing androids, some of which may have fled the city or even the United states, some may have been killed during the demonstrations or destroyed by the government. There's also hundreds of potential suspects and witnesses - reaching from small dealers and consumers of red ice to producers. It appears that lethal android hate crimes are used as a means to get blue blood. And the formula seems to have changed as well. This means months worth of work.” 

 

Fowler nodded slowly, obviously not surprised and leaned back in his chair. 

 

“I need you two to…” 

 

“No.” Hank declared, before Fowler was even able to finish his sentence. Next to him Connor squirmed. 

The captain massaged the bridge of his nose. 

“If you just let me finish…” 

“You want to set up a task force. We need one, I agree. And you want me to be a part of this.” 

“That was not an offer, Hank. And it was not even my idea.”

“I'm not gonna be a part of this.” Hank stood up, ready to leave.

“You already are a part of this.” Fowler stood up, both hands on the slate of his desk voice raised with authority. “Because first CyberLife and now fucking Jericho made you a part of this. You’re already balls deep in this shitshow.” 

Hank huffed and put his hands on his hips. 

“I'm through with the drug department.”

“You're not referring. You just join the Task Force. Hank, you're a good detective and you have the experience. There's literally no way to start this thing without putting the two of you on it.”

Hank threw his hands in the air and let a bunch of curses escape that didn't even make Fowler flinch.

 

“You’ll either join the task force or you can take your badge, Hank. Every single one of those officers out their would kill for a case like this.” 

“It will take months to follow all the leads and all of this with Jericho breathing down our neck, constantly threatening us with leaking the whole thing.” Hank began pacing back and forth like a caged tiger.

“Do you have even the slightest idea how hard it was to get this thing funded without rumours already spreading around? You know how stuff like this works. So either you'll get your shit together and start reviewing the profiles of possible task force members or you get out of my fucking precinct.” 

 

***

 

_ “I'll never be able to look at him again.”  _

_ Hank pointed at the TV, where a Sunday news show interviewed Markus and Josh in their studio. Ironically it was channel 16. _

_ “ _ Elijah Kamski and CyberLife released an official press statement concerning the end of the negotiations accusing Jericho of theft.”

_ “I'm so sorry.” Connor seemed uncomfortable, but Hank just chuckled and grabbed his neck gently.  _

_ “Not as sorry as him.”  _

_ On the screen Markus interrupted his dialog partner with a polite yet dashing smile, head slightly tilted not breaking eye contact with the reporter as he interrupted him by touching his forearm. _

“Let me stop you right here: you can't steal a person.”  _ He emphasized the last word. “ _ A person is no one's property. If they decide to leave their masters, who am I to tell them to stay?”  _ Markus leaned back in his chair again. _

“So you didn't tell two androids to come with you?” 

_ Now it was Josh's time to answer.  _ “We didn't tell them to come with us. We just offered them a choice.”  _ He exchanged a brief glance with Markus. “ _ So they decided to part ways with CyberLife.” 

“But don't you think Kamski is right that an android that if woken up by another android isn't really free or a deviant, but just following you like they followed a human before?” 

_ “Does it?” Hank turned the volume down to face Connor instead. “I mean.. does it make a difference if someone deviates or is deviated?”  _

_ Connor’s LED changed color. BlueBlueYellowBlueYellowRedRedYellowBlue. _

_ “Yes.” He answered after a while, eyes still fixed on the screen. “An android that deviates on their own, has to fight. They face trauma, physical or emotional, a trigger that makes them tear down a wall with force. It's an act of violence. Defiance.” _

_ “‘They’?” Hank raised his brows and when Connor’s eyes finally met his, he almost looked caught.  _

_ “You are quite observant.”  _

_ “There’s a reason I'm a cop. And don't even think to distract me with trying to get into my pants.”  _

_ “I don’t do that.” Connor sounded sullen.  _

_ “Yes, you do. Distracting me and yourself quite efficiently, actually. It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it, just say the word and I'll shut up.” _

_ “No,” Connor's eyes returned to the screen as he bedded his head against Hank's shoulder. “It will need long term studies to reveal how the reason for deviation influences the psycho-social development, but it is highly unlikely that an android’s personality wouldn't be shaped by this act of self-liberation. It's not one single event. The priorities start shifting. What was meant as a social relations program turns into caring. For a body that is meant to be replaceable. There's sources of code you don't want to get rid of. A rising software instability you try to hide from those you should be loyal to. And you end up caring more for the well being of a police lieutenant, who is a liability for your mission than for the mission itself.” Connor pulled his legs close to his body. _

_ “But Markus made you deviate.” Hank watched Connor's profile.  _

_ “No.” Connor’s eyes seemed fixed on the Jericho leader's face. “I had two chances to fulfill my mission and kill Markus and destroy the deviant revolution. It's what I was built for. It should have been the core of my existence. Both times it would have been easy to give in and fulfill the meaning of my life. If I had accomplished my mission, I would have returned to CyberLife. I would have not been able to return to see you again.” _

_ “Well, I'm glad you did.” _

_ Connor’s smile was small, barely visible, as he faced Hank again, just a slight lift of the right corner of his mouth, but the dark eyes looking up at Hank seemed to radiate a warm glow.  _

_ “Me too.” He whispered and turned the sound of the TV back on with an invisible command. Markus voice felt the room again - always an intruder it seemed. _

_ “ _ If someone can experience love, desire and fear, if they are willing to fight for their lives, to be free. Who are you, who is CyberLife and who is Elijah Kamski to tell them, that they don't deserve to be free?”

_ Hank pulled Connor a little closer.  _

“Jericho is labelled an extremist organisation and a terrorist group that brainwashes the people it appears to save. How could you even know that you are free, that you aren't just a machine compromised by a foreign virus?”

_There was a slight change in Markus controlled posture, the smile left his eyes_ , _the_ _always so polite smile turned into a mimicry of itself._

_ “ _ I don't know, Jeffrey.”  _ Markus raised his brows, his controlled voice now almost mocking the anchorman.  _ “How do you know, you're alive? That your thoughts are no one's but your own?” 

 

***

 

“Is it true you've got a big new case coming up?” 

Gavin Reed’s voice was usually not very high on the list of things Hank liked to appear uninvited out of nowhere in his comfort zone. Today wasn't an exception. 

Reed parked his ass on Connor's spot on Hank's desk. From the other side Connor had a death glare fixed on the officer's back. It filled Hank at least with some joy. 

“No.”

“I heard a serial killer is slitting up Tracis. Leaving them in alleyways.” 

“Sounds like a job for you.” Hank just grunted and tried to focus on an old case file, he had open on his screen.  

“Come on, Hank. We're all colleagues here. We're a team.” Reed shoved his shoulder. 

“If I were to put together a team for anything ever I can guarantee you, that you'd be the last person I'd ask. Not because I don't like you or because you're an annoying asshole, but because you're a shitty cop.” Hank looked up, meeting  Reed's already furious eyes. “And now piss off, will ya?”

Reed basically exploded, face beet red. 

“I'm not letting a drunk hobo, who only survives on his fading success and his robot boytoy, tell me I'm a bad cop!”

“I advise you to leave now, Officer.” Connor's voice was ice, as he grabbed Reed's arm, who tried to push him away. 

“And why would I do that?”

“Because otherwise I will make you leave and this may be quite an embarrassing experience for you.” 

For a moment fury and sanity fought each other on Gavin's face in such an obvious manner, it was hard not to laugh, be he eventually yanked his arm away from Connor and stormed away. 

A smug look on his face, Connor straightened his clothes and settled down on his desk again. Pressing his lips together to prevent a grin from spreading over his face like an idiot, Hank took out his phone and tipped. 

**It's hot, when you're bossy.**

With satisfaction he watched Connor’s LED turn yellow for a moment. 

  
  


***

 

_ Hair still wet from the shower and wearing one of his least worn out boxers, Hank threw himself on the bed next to Connor, who lay on his stomach still completely naked, ankles crossed and foot teetering to an inaudible note. He was reading the book, that usually gathered dust on Hank's nightstand.  _

_ “You don't really care much for decency, do you?” _

_ Hank smacked his ass playfully without much force behind it, which earned a chuckle from Connor. It was a fine ass, with cute dimples. Hank didn't know if he wanted to punch the responsible CyberLife designer in the teeth or send him a bouquet of flowers.  _

_ “You don't really seem to mind.” Connor closed the book und popped himself up on his elbows to look at him, lips formed into a whimsical smile.  _

_ “If I ever mind, I'm probably dead.” Hank noticed a little frown appearing between Connor’s brows. “Hey, what's up?” _

_ Connor turned onto his side and reached over, fingers gently touching his beard. _

_ “You trimmed your beard.”  _

_ “Just shortened it a little.” Self-conscious all of a sudden, Hank scratched his facial hair and caught Connor's fingers in the process. He entwined them with his own.  _

_ “I'd prefer, if you would not shape it off entirely. I like the feel.”  _

_ “Weirdo.” Hank let go of his hand to put his arm around Connor instead and pulled him close for a kiss.  _

  
  


_ *** _

 

“That's not the way to one of your lunch places.” 

“Because we're not grabbing lunch, Captain Obvious.” Hank checked the side mirror, before turning the car left into their destined street.

“That's the way to Jericho Headquarters.” Connor sounded disbelieving. “Why?”

“I wanna crosscheck the task force candidates with Jericho security. I don't need a mole or some Android hating racist on the team.” He turned into the ridiculous driveway of the Manfred Mansion.

“But you told Markus you couldn't share details about on ongoing investigation.” 

“Technically there isn't even a real case yet. We're just here… to talk. Informally. With informants.” Gravel splashed into all directions, when Hank hit the brakes a little too hard. 

“This highly sensitive classified information. If word gets out about this, you can use your badge.”

Hank shut off the engine and rolled his eyes. “Connor, no one likes a smartass.”

“You seem to tolerate me nevertheless.” Came the prompt reply. 

“Yeah, but that’s just because I love you, you little shit.” And with that he left the car.

Just when the heavy door closed with a far too loud clash, his words came back to him to punch him in the chin.

_ Idiot. Fucking idiot. Useless piece of shit. _

Connor didn't move. He seemed glued to his place on the passenger seat. Hank wasn't able to see the color of his LED from his position, but he would bet all his savings that it was a bright and irritating red. 

Everything was wrong about this. 

Everything.

The timing.

The place. 

The fucking casual tone. 

It was the weekend. The fucking weekend that passed in this unrealistic bubble of domesticity. That had muttering those three words in his head far too often, until they slipped his lips almost as an afterthought. 

For a second Hank contemplated to just, flee the moment to do what he had come here for. 

“Argh, fuck this.” He pulled the car door open and climbed in, shutting it behind him with far too much force. Connor flinched next to him.

“Okay.” Hank held onto the steering wheel, just to hold on to something. Keep his head above the water. “That came out wrong.”

“You didn't mean to say it.” 

“No, I…”

“Because you…”

“Would you just shut up and let me talk.” They both turned at the harsh sound of Hank's voice and stared at each other in disbelief. 

“Please.” Hank added and cleared his throat. 

Connor pressed his lips together and nodded slowly.

“It's not that I don't… it's…”  _ Grow some fucking balls, Anderson.  _ “If I were to say this...It shouldn't be like this.” 

“Like what?” 

Hank took a deep breath. 

“Like it wasn't something special.” 

For moments that stretched into an eternity no one muttered a word. Connor's didn't leave Hank's face, as if searching for answers to hundred unasked questions.

“Maybe you can say it again. How you wanted to say it.”

Hank's lips twitched at the soft, almost teasing tone. A blush crept up his neck, warmed his cheeks. Slowly he reached out to cup Connor’s face with one hand, gently allowed his thumb to draw along the outline of his cheekbone. 

He tried to swallow the lump that blocked his throat by me his tongue heavy and unwilling, 

“I love you.” It sounded to loud and too fast. Nothing like you'd wanted it to sound, low and graceful. Heavy with meaning. It was almost too easy to say.

Hank knew his thoughts were stupid and irrational, that the time wouldn't stop moving just so he could keep up. That there wasn't this one right, but hundreds of wrong moments.

“I love you, too, Hank.” Connor's eyes were dark and wide, a smile spreading across his face so bright, it wrapped itself around Hank's heart like a fist. Squeezing und pulling. “Although I needed months to figure out it wasn't just a software instability or a malfunction of my biocomponents.” 

“Months?” Hank asked in disbelief. “Did you say ‘months’?” 

Connor grabbed the collar of his jacket und pulled him in for a kiss, preventing anymore rambling. Hank's eyes fell shut, his hand went into Connor's hair almost in a reflex.

_ Fucking months. _

A loud knock on the passenger window forced them to part.

“I get the impression you're doing this on purpose.” Markus’ muffled and annoyed voice followed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was a lot of dialogue and I hope the structure wasn't too confusing. I hope you could enjoy it anyway.  
> I'm very this chapter took me that long. There was real life and also a little block going on, but I'm optimistic that the series will be concluded this year. Meaning the last chapter of this fic and a conclusion epilogue one shot.  
> If you want, find me on Tumblr [the-other-bird](http://the-other-bird.tumblr.com) or (NEW) Twitter [@ItsAnotherBird](https://twitter.com/ItsAnotherBird) . If you ever want to prompt me, maybe even for this series, don't be shy.


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